...i wonder how many will actually end up being in it

BTS LETTERS TO EACH OTHER:

Suga to Jin: 

“ To Jinjinjara/Seok-jin!! It’s your eternal roommate, Suga. I can’t believe it’s been 7 years since we’ve known each other. Remember when I first met you? You seemed so well-behaved and kind and you seem so bright and cheerful these days, which amazes me. I believe that being together with us has brought about that change? It seems like yesterday when you were concerned and not confident on stage but when I see you on stage these days, I realize how well you sing. It’s the result of your hard effort for a long period of time. I’ve watched you for a long time. It was touching to see you try to do better at something that you weren’t good at. I felt that I had a lot to learn from you. Let’s be together for a long time. P.S: But I wish you’d act your age”.

Jin to Jungkook: 

“ To Jk, Hi, JK. It’s me. I’m always appreciative of what you do. Thank you for having the same mental age as I do, when I am 26 years old. While traveling with you, I was reminded once again of how strong your punches are. I’ll do better, so please don’t hit me. I think your face got a lot darker during this trip. As the older guy, I’ll give you a facial mask when we go back to Korea. Soothe your skin with it, and also soothe yourself and stop lying on my bed. You keep lying on my bed and taking selfies. You may have gotten a tan in Hawaii, but I will throw you into a fire pit in Korea. Of course, that fire pit is my heart.  Come and be embraced in my big heart. Thank you for being the teacher and the energy of the team. Jungkook, you are nice, good looking, strong, have a  good body, have big eyes, sings and dances well. I love you”.

Jungkook to Rap Monster: 

“To Namjoon, Hey. This is the youngest of the team, Jungkook. I’m not good at writing letters so I don’t know where to start, but here I go. This is something that I always think about. I often get inspired, by the team. Although I’m inspired by all the members, I’m especially inspired by you. I have a lot of things that I wanna do but I never seem to stick to them for long. You guys always joke about that. But when that pattern was repeated, I felt that I have really become that kind of person. Whenever I see you working, talking about or working on music or speaking English, I develop this sense of confidence and passion. I know that things may be tough for you too, but please continue showing those things for me. I’ll keep following you from behind. You’re really an amazing person”.

Taehyung to Jimin: 

“To Jimin. Jimin, hi.  Writing you this sincere letter is making me cringe, but I’m trying to go on. Please understand. Since our trainee days, we came to Seoul without a clue.  We woke up, put on uniforms and attended the same school. We ate together, went to practice together, went to practice and got back to the dorm. Then we’d talk all night. After such 6 years, you’re now my dearest friend. Before our debut, you once got anxious about it. At that time, I had a company meeting. they asked me what I’d think if Jimin is on the team. I thought it over and said that you’re there when I’m up or down, the only one who laughed and cried with me. I said that I’d like such a good friend to debut with me as a team. It felt good to say that. And I’m glad that I was able to debut with you. All our good memories made me happy. And I’m sorry since I’m always on the receiving end. When I’m in the bathroom to cry, you still cry with me. And you come see me at dawn to laugh alongside me. You care about me and have me in your thoughts. You work hard for me and understand. You listen to my concerns and like me though I’m lacking. Let’s walk a road of happiness. Love you, buddy.

Rap Monster to Tae-Hyung: 

“Taehyung, my first letter goes to you. That gives me a mix of feelings. Like the peddles we’ve seen to our heart’s content in Hawaii, it’s hard to pick out what I want to say to you. like the open sea we’ve enjoyed, it may be because we go far back with many memories we share. I remember when I first met you. When you came with your father to our dorm with big eyes, busy legs, and your puckered lips, I knew at once.That you'be a rascal. I also remember how you were anxious before our debut. Your unique character and strangeness got me puzzled at times. so I wondered what aspect of yours helped you to bear everything at times. But as time went by and my hair started to grow out, I realized that even me, who I thought was the norm, is also a strange puzzling guy. And I was drawn by your uniqueness. And I was envious at times because you easily befriend people and everyone likes you. You have shown everyone that your strangeness is actually your unique charm. You might say this makes you cringe, but since you started out as a trainee, I want to say I’m grateful to you as a friend and older member.  Thanks for not being a farmer or playing the saxophone and coming to us to complete BTS. Let’s keep up the good work. Hand in there!”.

Jhope to Suga: 

“To my bro Suga from Jhope, Hey. It’s Hoseok. We’ve been together for 7  years, including our trainee days. When I was first at the dorm, I felt so awkward and shy. So I remained in the living room. Then you came over to talk and made me relax. I still can’t forget that moment. Coming from Gwangju, you were like my savior.  When I was sick or sad, you were always there for me. When I was tired and had it hard; you were there to give me strength. When I got seasick on Bon Voyage 2 and opened my eyes from sleep, the first person I saw was you. Though Jimin was also there. I didn’t say it then, but I really appreciate your help. As much as we’ve spent time together, I’m that much grateful to you. I’d like to say that with this letter at this time. Thanks for becoming a member of BTS. And thanks for being my big brother. I hope you’re always by my side. I love my bro!“.

Jimin to Jhope:

 “To Hoseok. I thought it would be easy because it’s not the first letter to you. But it’s not. I am nervous. Because we talk together a lot and I talk about my feelings to you, I guess you know well what I think or what I want to say. When I look at you, I have this thought: ‘He is really honest and faithful. He is a good and nice one”. I thought like this: “A person can be cool because he is honest and faithful”. I realized it thanks to you.  As a younger brother and a member of the same team, I learn a lot from you. You always take good care of us. you pay attention to us and work hard. I know. I want to say thank you, with all my heart. Thank you, brother! I hope you take care of yourself and stop worrying about us. My dear brother, whom I always am thankful, love you.“

By @mimibtsghost

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

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This property is HOA-Free.

This is a long one, because it involves a growing escalation of actions. TLDR at the bottom. Some terms are translated because I don’t live in an English-speaking country.

We moved houses last year, to the ugliest in the street. The previous owners must have loved Mondriaan, because the front was red/blue/yellow in windowframes and door. One paintjob, many thankful neighbors and several months later, I get an invitation to a voluntary “Collective of inhabitants”, the terms read like an opt-in HOA that you can never leave. A long list of restrictions, and no benefits? No thanks.

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OK so since @tom-hiddleston-god-of-mischief and other people showed interest, I bumped up my schedule and so…

Here is my ‘Craig is totally gay and was in love with the MC in college’ post!

So, first off- this is Craig Cahn and the thing that made me first think that he was gay instead of bi. (And fyi I am a Bi myself, so this is more headcanoning and exploring character and not trying to stomp on other headcanons, jsyk.)

Yeah the very first time we met. But look- divorces do happen, and do happen in a chill manner. But… let us note a couple things. One, the divorce literally only happened ‘last year’. Which could mean anywhere from (assuming this is the spring due to college letters and school timetables) 12+ to only 3-ish months ago depending on what counts as ‘last year’.

You only get a SECOND of him being uncomfortable while breaking the news before he is on even ground and is like ‘yeah it’s old news and everything is in perfect order now’. AND THE DIVORCE HAPPENED EITHER WHILE SMASHLEY WAS PREGNANT OR JUST HAD RIVER. Now, this could be a him lying, except… it’s never really brought up again as a thing? Like, we deal with Mat’s feelings for his dead wife, Joseph’s failing marriage, and etc but despite how recent it was we are lead to believe their divorce was perfectly amicable despite the timing.  (Now placing a cut here because this gets long and has more pics.)

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tsundere (m)

Originally posted by nnochu

⇢ resident advisor! yoongi x reader, college au

⇢ word count: 11.2k

⇢ summary: according to the rumours, min yoongi is a bad apple- doesn’t take grades seriously, drinks as if he has two livers, a certified bad boy™. when you get paired up with him for a project, you’d never expect that someone like him would have a thing or two to teach you about life itself- and how it should be lived. 

⇢ warnings: angst, smut

🎵 song recommendation: something just like this by coldplay x the chainsmokers

a/n: finally something that isn’t pwp????? :”) 


Panic races through your veins and fills up your airway, causing your breathing to double itself, chest heaving in an attempt to calm yourself down. No, this can’t be happening, you chant to yourself over and over. The clock on your laptop is glaringly bright in the near darkness of your room, and the numbers burn themselves into the back of your eyelids. When you close your eyes, the uncomfortable stinging of your contact lenses makes your eyes water and at this point they might as well be tears of desperation.

It’s not like you’ve never had writer’s block before, you reason with yourself. You just have to start writing and edit along the way. Your own voice of reason is drowned out by the anxiety that echoes all the possible consequences of not acing this paper. It’s nearly 4 am and the essay you have so far in front of you is not enough to get an A, you know it in your bones but you can’t come up with anything better either. You could just submit this as it is, but anything less than an A on this paper would pull you down from the cusp of that ever elusive first class honours. And you can’t afford to graduate with anything less than that. The very thought of it sends a fresh chill of panic that creeps down your spine and jolts your fingers into a typing frenzy, spilling thoughts and ideas onto your screen till you reach the end of the page.

But when you read over what you’ve written, it doesn’t make sense at all, just incoherent rambling sentences strung together into a never ending paragraph. In frustration you shove your laptop away from you and push back your chair, reaching for your keys and phone. Sneaking a peek at your roommate’s still form across the room, you let yourself out of the room silently, feeling your tensed shoulders relax immediately as the cool night air embraces you with open arms.

It’s a little chilly to be out in just a long shirt and sleep shorts, but since there’s no one awake to catch you dressed like this, it’s the least of your concerns for now. The balcony that is attached to your room affords a little privacy, and it’s one of the perks of occupying the corner room on this floor. The tranquillity of the cold, autumn night directly contrasts with the millions of theories and concepts running through your mind, and any attempts at clearing your mind are failing pathetically. The residential halls are eerily silent at this time of the night, and as you glance down over the protective railings, you consider how easy it would be to just climb over, just one leg over and then-

“Late night?” You whirl around at the interruption of a raspy, gruff voice sounding from behind you. Your eyes are met with a figure clothed in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, but it’s only when you squint in the darkness to survey his face that you realise who he is.

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→ plums & melons | 01

Originally posted by trash-for-bangtan

pairing → Jimin x Reader

☆ genre  →  smut, slight humor, drama || brother’s best friend!au 

warnings   → public indecency, dirty talk, a lot of teasing, jimin’s porn preferences, and boobs

☆ word count   → 6.3k

The long time running game between you and your brother’s best friend started when you noticed his fascination with boobs—yours specifically. It was never supposed to amount to more than harmless flirting and lingering glances, but now, one year later, Jimin was ready to change that.

alternatively: Jimin and you play a game. the loser is fucked. metaphorically. literally. all the above??

☆ a/n → i had to split this into 2 parts rip (& in this work of fiction, jimin’s penis isn’t a jelly bean) happy 3 months !!

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oh, shit, people actually asked me to follow up on Preaching The Good Word of A Functional Alignment System, okay

i hope you people know what you’re unleashing here

(whole thing prompted by this right here, notably including the tag #unpopular opinion: the definition of lawful and chaotic has been thoroughly twisted over the years since od&d)

So some of you (the ones who didn’t request this) might be wondering: “Alterz, why would you want to go back to the old alignment method? If people generally agree on the new alignment definitions then why confuse things by trying to change them? Is this just some old system nostalgia?”

Well 1) I’m too young by far for old system nostalgia but more importantly 2) people don’t? agree????? on the alignments???????

And that’s a problem, because the whole point of the alignments is to give some rough guidelines on how any given character is likely to act. It should be inarguable. The very fact that people can have arguments over what an alignment is means that the system has failed.

If you look in the alignment section on the more recent D&D editions, they literally have to go into detail on each alignment to explain what each one means. Worse still, for a system theoretically set up as a gradient, the different alignments are basically buckets and it gets really confusing if a character doesn’t neatly fit into one of those buckets.

Some examples from characters I have actually played: a mercenary who I labeled as neutral because I could make equally compelling arguments for why he should be lawful neutral, chaotic neutral, neutral good, and neutral evil. A hermit who at any given time was chaotic neutral or neutral good, but could never reliably be described as chaotic good.

Under the system I’m about to provide you, the mercenary is inarguably chaotic neutral and the hermit is unambiguously lawful good. End of sentence, all cleared up.

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful day! I wanted to ask you if you could recommend some super fluffy fics. BTW I really appreciate you! Thank you so much!

SOMETIMES WE ALL JUST NEED SOME FLUFF, so I’m going to try to make this list extra lovely (and long!) ^-^ 💜💜💜

Fluffy Drarry Recs

Talk to Me by Saras_Girl (15.5K)- When the usual channels of communication are shut down, the most surprising people can find a way in. A strange little love story.
Harry is cursed temporarily blind and deaf while alone outside, and is helped by a gentle stranger (*cough* Draco). SO SWEET. Part of her fluffy!verse (collection of one-shots), and anyone after fluff should really read them all <3

Yours Until Midnight by drarryisgreen (4.5K)- Harry sits at a cafe owned by Draco day after day and wonders why Draco likes to bother him. / Lots of rain, lots of tea(s), lots of fluff.
Some fics you just adore for no reason you can articulate, and this is one of those for me. Harry is a (secret) fiction writer under the alias January James, and he writes all his stories in Draco’s cafe, while drinking Draco’s tea and pining without even realizing what he wants. Heart-clenchingly sweet!

Then Comes A Mist and A Weeping Rain by faithwood (21K)- It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that’s ever so cross.
This fic has the most kudos of any Drarry fic on AO3, so everyone and their grandmother has probably read it, but READ IT AGAIN because there is a cloud that follows Draco around raining on the poor boy EXCEPT WHEN HARRY’S BEING NICE TO HIM <333

Luckiest Fucking Size Queen Alive by @l0vegl0wsinthedark(6K)- Potter escorts me home, presses me into my front door and kisses me with a ferocity that’s exhilarating. And then Potter asks me, in a growl that makes my cock throw a wet tantrum in my pants, how many more dates I would deem mandatory before I let him fuck me. I drag Potter to bed.
This fic is fucking hilarious. Quite possibly my favorite humor/fluff/smut combination ever. They both work at the Ministry, and Draco is lured to Potter by the rumors of his amazing cock and they’re so cute and it’s just pure brilliance.

Good to me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (9K)- Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan.
Harry implements Operation Make Friends With Draco Malfoy, and Draco is very confused. Also featuring “Harry’s Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy Repository of Information Collected Whilst Stalking (DLAMRoICWS)” hehehe <3

The Wolf Pack by dracogotgame (13.5K)- Nobody said achieving your animagus form was easy. Draco could handle being a wolf pup for a while, right? How bad could it be?
Oh my GOD Draco’s animagus form is a wolf PUPPY and he meets another wolf in the forest and bothers him all the time and then he adopts this wolf as his protector. And the wolf is annoyed but reluctantly amused and endeared and I WONDER WHO THAT WOLF IS HM WHO COULD IT BE????

Mingling, Mistletoe & Misdeeds by @jadepresley (10K)- Three couples in denial. One Christmas party to make them finally see sense. Christmas fluff!
This fic is adorable! It also features Ron x Pansy and Hermione x Theo, and I fell in love with those other two pairings in this fic as much as Drarry! Christmassy and LOVELY. And Draco planned the party, so you know it’s a good one ;)

Candy by @bixgirl1 (5.5K)- It was only after careful consideration that Draco came to the wildly preposterous conclusion that he and Potter were actually friends. Sweet fic. May cause cavities.
Harry wants to be friends with Draco, but Draco refuses. And keeps refusing. Until somehow they’re suddenly friends, and then they’re more then friends, and Draco has no idea how any of it happened! Oblivious!Draco is my favorite Draco and yes I think I may have indeed gotten a cavity from how sweet this fic was ;)

To Love a Loathed (Arch) Enemy by Sophie_French (11.5K)- “For the last time, Malfoy, I have absolutely no hidden agenda giving you your wand back.”
Harry brings Draco his wand back after the war and the rest is history.
After Harry returns Draco’s wand, they start sending (FLIRTY OMG) owls back and forth, and then Draco helps Harry with the Hogwarts Restoration and it’s all just adorable :)

Harry Potter and the Incredibly Organized Personal Assistant by megyal (2.5K)- Harry Potter’s new assistant is snarkily organized.
Not gonna lie, I have a huge thing for Draco being Harry’s Personal Assistant and basically just running his life. This short little fic is so lovely and funny!

Get Me From My Good Side by @julietsemophase (5.5K)- The only reason Harry agrees to these Ministry publicity articles is he knows he’s in safe hands with Draco Malfoy as his stylist. But then a shoot doesn’t quite go to plan and Harry worries his secret is out.
Personal stylist is another job I just LOVE for Draco. This fic is perfect perfect perfect because Draco is the only one Harry trusts to style him. And of course that’s not because he’s secretly in love with him, what are you talking about?!

To Bag A Hero by moonshoespotterr (7.5K)- When Draco realises that insults are getting him nowhere, he decides to take a new approach to bagging the Boy Who Lived.
Draco starts being nice to Harry and gives him his scarf and YEP this is pure fluff

Tug-O-Want by dysonrules (16.5K)- Harry is back at Hogwarts minding his own business when he finds himself magically drawn to Draco Malfoy. Over and over again.
Aaaah amazingness! Accidental bonding! Being repeatedly drawn to each other from opposite sides of the castle! Neither of their faults but they blame each other anyway! Giving in to their desires more and more each time! Y E S

One More Cup of Coffee by Lonov (10.5K)- Harry thought the best part about being a Healer would be saving lives every day without the constant fear of being murdered by a megalomaniac, but when Draco Malfoy walked into the room, he realized he hadn’t escaped so easily.
Both are healers, Harry is miffed that Draco has a more senior position than he does, Draco brings Harry coffee every day, and I could choke on the sweetness

Check Me Out by lumosed_quill (3K)- Draco works as a librarian. Harry visits often and attempts (possibly) to flirt with Draco through his choice of books. Draco is not getting it. At all.
YES this fic is exactly as adorable as the summary makes it sound :D

Storm in a Teacup by faithwood (8K)- For reasons he’d rather not think about, Draco is obsessed with Potter’s hair. This cannot end well.
FLUFF FLUFF HARRY’S HAIR IS FLUFFY LIKE THIS FIC. They study together in a hidden alcove <3

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster (16K)- Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.
GAH Harry starts complimenting Draco whenever Draco insults him and Draco gets all flustered and baffled and it’s adorable as FUCK.

9 times Harry kissed Draco, and the 1 time Draco kissed Harry by LockWhoSuper (4.5K)- ‘Harry grinned, Draco fell into his trap perfectly. Surging forwards, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco’s tie and pulled him forwards until their lips met over their cauldron. The pressure lasted for three seconds, Harry’s eyes shut and Draco’s wide in surprise. When Harry let Draco go, he slid back into his seat slowly, eyes still wide, tie crooked and a blush painting his cheeks.’
Every time Draco swears, Harry kisses him. That’ll make him stop. Yep. Perfect plan. Nothing at all to do with Harry wanting to kiss Draco. Nothing whatsoever.

What Potter Wants by birdsofshore (3.5K)- Harry definitely didn’t want to do that to Malfoy. Not at all. So why did Malfoy keep saying that he did?
This fic is hilarious and perfect and I think about it all the time because the idea is just that brilliant. Draco insists over and over that Potter is dying to suck his cock. Harry denies it and denies it, but….for someone who doesn’t want to suck Malfoy’s cock, he sure is protesting a lot. Fluffy Smutty Humor ;)

All You Want for Christmas is Me by chibaken (7.5K)- Harry Potter is rich enough to buy himself anything he wants, and so famous that he receives daily gifts from his fans. Whatever is a Secret Santa to do? Draco doesn’t know yet, but he’s going to figure it out.
YEAH I’M RECCING MYSELF SUE ME (please don’t). Christmas party games, Draco in denial, presents, and pooooooorn with a ribbon

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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She’s Just Not That Into You » Part I (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

First and foremost, I need to dedicate this miniseries to @stylesunchained​. If it weren’t for B, this idea would’ve never come to fruition. It’s been so lovely to torture you with snippets of this story, and now it’s finally here! And yes, the whole damn thing is dedicated to you, my beautiful friend.

Secondly, I need to take the time to thank @cuddlemusclestyles​ for her knowledge of England and always answering my questions about it. I would be lost without you, for you are my own personal Google.

And, of course, thank you all for the interest you’ve expressed for this miniseries. It’s always that much more enjoyable to write when you know you’ve got people rooting for you. I hope I don’t disappoint you.

Let me know what you think! Happy reading.

Originally posted by chillhopdotcom

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Peter Parker (Tom Holland) Imagine: Savior

Summary: Peter saves you when Flash begins to get a little bit too handsy

Requested: Yes
–> “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” And “You can’t leave without letting me hug you first.” combined into one with Peter Parker please? Btw I love your writing!

A/N: fucking pissed cause tumblr deleted all of this and so now I’m writing it again

Warnings: none

————————————————

To say that Peter Parker had a crush on you was a complete understatement. The boy was head over heels in love with you. He thought he had it bad with Liz, but with you it was a whole other level. In fact, his infatuation with you was the sole reason he dragged Ned to this party with him.

Peter had over heard some fellow classmates talking in the hallway about how Flash was planning on asking you out tonight. And Peter simply couldn’t just stand by and let that happen.

His soft brown eyes scanned over the crowds of people hoping to find the one angel that stood out above all of them, but to his dismay all he saw were strangers.

Apparently Flash has many friends from other schools cause Peter only knew a handful of the kids that he could see.

“Do you see her anywhere, Ned?”

“No. Maybe we should split up. Cover more ground, you know?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Ned headed off in one direction, and Peter in the other. Peter wondered off through the different crowds of people searching for the girl of his dreams.

He said a few hellos to some people he knew from the robotics club, the school band and the academic decathlon team.

He was just about to give up on finding you when he suddenly heard the beautiful sound of your laugh.

Peter jerked his head around and saw you leaning against a wall surrounded by a group of your friends, one of them which was obviously telling a funny story.

Peter admired the way your soft curls perfectly framed your face and how the crop top and high waisted jeans you were wearing hugged your body in all the best ways.

Peter felt his heart begin to beat rapidly when his eyes connected with yours from across the room. You gave him a soft smile and a small wave and Peter is still not quite sure how his brain got the message to the rest of his body to return the gesture.

But the beautiful moment was quickly cut short by Flash pushing through the wall of your friends and placing an arm above your head.

Peter didn’t have to be near to know what Flash was saying when he saw his mouth begin to move. He knew he was asking you out.

Peter heard his heart pounding in his ears as he watched the horrific scene unfold before him. It wasn’t until he saw you flip Flash off that he was able to breathe again.

But soon the relief disappeared once again as he watch Flash grab your wrist and pull you into his chest. Peter realized all your friends had scattered once Flash walked up and there was no one to come to your rescue.

Now, Peter knew you were a tough girl that could fend for herself, but he also knew how relentless Flash could be. And the thought of anything happening to you was enough to send him across the room in a matter of seconds until he was standing between you and Flash.

Peter felt your fingers grip the back of his shirt and it was the fear in them that caused the sanity in his brain to blur. Peter no longer cared if he used his Spidey strength to harm the ass hole that threatened the girl he loved.

Peter sent Flash flying across the room into a glass door that lead into his backyard.

Peter felt the eyes of everyone at the party on him. He knew everyone was wondering how the scrawny kid from gym class that could barely do a pull up managed to send a man flying across the room.

Peter was about to panic when he heard your soft voice pull him back to reality.

“Peter? Can we please get out of here?”

There was no hesitation. Peter had grabbed your hand and was leading you out of the house.

Once you two had safely exited, Peter began to lead you down the street.

“Where are we headed?”

“I-I can’t go home. Not like this.”

It was then that Peter saw the tears in your eyes which only angered him more. He pulled you into his side and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“We can go back to my apartment. It isn’t far, and May won’t mind if you stay over.”

Peter felt the girl nod and began to lead her in the direction of his home.

The two fell into a comfortable silence until you finally spoke up.

“Please don’t think I’m a baby for crying… I’m used to guys hitting on me and I’ve gotten quite good at shutting them down. I’m just not used to them beginning to get physical with me and it freighted me. Thank you, Peter, for saving me.”

The fear in the your voice when you spoke of Flash’s actions was almost enough to send Peter back into the house to end the bully for good.

“I’ll always protect you, Y/N. No matter what.”

Peter was too focused on getting the two home safely to notice the smile that crossed your face, but he did notice the way your small fingers gripped his shirt tighter.

After a short while of walking, you and Peter had finally reached his apartment.

Peter lead you quietly into his room, careful not to wake his aunt up.

Although he knew May wouldn’t mind the girl staying over, he also knew she would never stop teasing him about having a girl sleep in his room. Especially one as pretty as you.

Peter opened up one of his drawers and pulled out some clothes for you to change into.

“Here you go. I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the be-”

“No! I um… sorry. Can you, um, sleep in here? With me?”

Peter didn’t think he’d ever hear such beautiful words leave someone’s mouth.

Peter nodded his head and turned around to give you privacy to change. He stared at his poster of the periodic table until he heard you clear your voice, signaling to him that he could turn around.

Peter felt his cheeks grow red as he looked over your attire.

His t-shirt hung loosely off your body and his sweatpants were bunched up at the bottom due to him being a few inches taller than you. You looked completely adorable.

You shifter your eyes to the floor under his intense gaze.

“Do I look bad or something?”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.“

A smile grew across your face as Peter crossed the room and took your hand in his to lead you to his small twin sized bed.

Peter laid down on his back and pulled you to lay on top of him. You laid your head on his chest and Peter began to run his fingers through your hair.

The soothing gesture and the sound of his heart beat was enough to send you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

—The Next Morning—

You were pulled from your dreaming state as the sunlight crept in through Peter’s window.

You lifted your head up and couldn’t help but smile at how adorable Peter looked as he slept.

His brown curls were scattered in different directions. His soft pink lips were slightly parted and a soft blush was spread across his cheeks.

You reached your hand up to push a loose curl out of his face and Peter’s eyes began to flutter open at the soft touch.

A smile spread across his face as he leaned into your touch.

"Good morning, sleepy head.” You whispered.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Peter replied in his husky morning voice.

His eyes widened as he realized what he said but the soft giggle that escaped your lips calmed him in a matter of seconds.

“I should go. My parents are probably worried sick.”

Peter frowned at the loss of warmth as your body left his.

He watched as you picked up your clothes from the floor. You turned and gave him one last smile before your hand reach out to grab the door handle but his voice stopped you from opening it.

“You can’t leave without letting me hug you first.”

You bit your lip and turned around to see Peter already standing behind you smirking.

“I can do you one better.”

Confusion crossed his face as you gripped the front of his shirt and pulled his lips into yours.

The kiss lasted a few short seconds but they were the best seconds of his life.

Peter watched you walk out of his apartment with a goofy, lovestruck grin on his face.

He had finally got the girl of his dreams.

A brazen challenge

Synopsis: Imagine admitting to Loki that you never manage to orgasm when are with men, making him smirk mischievously in response.

“Is that a challenge, my dear?”

So for the next couple of hours, he magically locks the two of you in your room and makes it a challenge as to how many times he can make you cum in a row. He pleasures you with his soft hands, his skilled and long fingers and his silver tongue before he fucks you roughly.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 4040
Warnings: smut. a lot of smut.

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Stressed (CEO harry)

Originally posted by solo-harry

let’s all imagine harry looking like this because he looked fine af in this suit. 

rated ma (mostly smut)

Being the girlfriend of a CEO can be vexatious. It requires you putting up with your boyfriend’s moody attitude and traveling. He can be pretty oblivious at times due to the amount of work that consumes him. You’ve been dating for about a two years now and you practically live with him in his luxurious penthouse. 

There are days where you’d feel off and he wouldn’t notice because of how tired he is and there are definitely days where his mood would be off but you’d notice because he makes it pretty obvious. Some days he’d have to cancel dinner or lunch dates because of a meeting or staying in the office too late which would make a hefty sigh blow past your lips. Other days, he might have to travel out of the state or country since his company is international and there’d be problems only he could fix by going there. 

One of the most aggravating things would be when your boyfriend is stressed. His patience would be very thin and one would talk to him like they’re walking on thin ice that could break easily. He would shut people out and make them leave him alone due to frustration. Sometimes he would yell without noticing, his vein in his jaw protruding, his eyes blazing with anger as they would become a shade darker. His jaw would clench tightly, making the bone more prominent and sharp.

However, there are some people that Harry can be around when he is angry or stressed. Like you. You’d talk to Harry like he’s fragile china and he’d snap at you but calm down, apologizing for using such a rude tone because you would give him a stern glare. Other than his mother or sister, you don’t put up with Harry’s rude and annoyed demeanor either. 

When he’s home, you’d see him screaming through the phone at one of his employees, his face red in anger, chest heaving slightly but as soon as he hangs up and looks at your face, it all disappears and he’d give you one of his warm smiles as if he wasn’t just screaming on through the phone. You’d actually found it quite comical if you’re honest. It’s like seeing Harry go from an angry lion to a cute little bunny within seconds.

Currently, you were in the elevator of his building, going up to his office to visit him. You had received a call from his assistant about how stressed he was and how he didn’t eat lunch yet which made you grunt because how many times have you told Harry to eat lunch on time? You knew that his assistant wouldn’t dare to ask him since he might just scream at her considering stressed he was, therefore, she called you because she knew you can get him to calm down and eat. 

When you got up to his floor, a bag of lunch in hand, you walk out of the elevator and to his assistant’s desk. You greet her with a polite smile and receive a grateful one in return. 

“Thank god you’re here!” His assistant sighs in relief, causing you to chuckle. 

“How bad is it today?” You ask her even though you already know, considering he didn’t answer any of your calls or texts.

A bleak facial expression is etched on the assistant’s face, her tongue clicking against her teeth to make a hissing sound. “He yelled at four employees today and broke the small vase in his office.”

You purse your lips in wonder, looking towards his office door and you could hear him screaming through the phone. Your eyes go wide when you hear him say do you want me to fucking fire you? really loud and you look back at his assistant who ushers you towards the door with a knowing and hopeless look.

Dammit Harry. 

“Good luck,” you hear his assistant whisper, causing you to snort.

You open the door slowly, sticking your head in first to see what he was doing. You could see him facing away from you, sitting on his chair behind his desk as he holds a phone in his hand, staring out at the view of the city through the large window. He doesn’t hear you when you shut the door, his voice far too loud and angry, speaking through the phone. 

You set the bag of food down on the coffee table where there is also a sofa set up and you cautiously walk towards him.

“No, dammit! S’not what I wanted! I told yeh that ‘ve been wanting t’ sign a contract with tha’ company fo’ a while now!” He seethes, gripping the phone in his large veiny hands tightly. 

You stand behind him, your hands coming down to rest on both of his shoulders making him stiffen even more but quickly relax when he notices the promise ring he gave you, sitting on your finger and he turns his head to confirm it is you before looking back out at the view. You slightly massage his tense shoulders to calm him down as he talks on the phone, his voice not as angry as it was before but it was still angry. 

You feel one of his hands come up to rest on yours to acknowledge you and you smile at the gesture, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. He runs his thumb across your knuckles as you dig your thumb into the back of his neck with your other hand. 

“Look,” he miffed, his tone condescending, “I don’ wanna have t’ come over there just ‘cos one o’ my employees screwed up and couldn’t do their job like they were told to. I cannot lose this contract and ‘f I do, I promise you, you won’t have a job startin’ tomorrow if yeh don’t fix this.” And without letting the person on the other end speak, he hangs up the phone, chucking it onto the floor and you click your tongue together at his anger. He doesn’t greet you, pinching his forehead together with his hand as he shuts his eyes, lips set into a firm line. 

You roll your eyes but keep quiet, knowing that he’s irritated and needs to relax so you lean down to wrap your arms around his neck from behind, crossing over his chest. You feel him let out a sigh, intertwining his ring clad fingers with yours, silently. 

You bring your lips to his neck, pressing soft kisses against it to unwind him from his angry state. You feel the skin move beneath your lips as he swallows thickly  and you love how you still have this affect on him even while he was angry. You bring your lips below his ear, puckering it against the soft skin and you know how much it affects him considering that’s where he loves to be kissed. 

“You okay, baby?” You whisper in his ear, scratching a hand across his chest of the area where his shirt is unbuttoned. 

“‘m fine,” he mutters. 

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes at him, “Didn’t sound fine. I heard you broke a vase again.”

An annoyed sigh emits from Harry’s lips, “Who told yeh tha’? Told them not t’ tell yeh but they still do. Stupid fucking employees never listen to me an’ now ‘m gonna ‘ave to–” You don’t let him finish, interrupting his angry rant. 

“Doesn’t matter who told me. You need to relax, sweetheart. This is like the fifth vase you broke. And you skipped eating again when I told you not to!” You move back from the chair when you feel him let go of your hand and spin his chair to face you properly. 

His eyes scan your body, enjoying the view of you wearing a white sundress that reaches mid thigh. His green orbs linger on your cleavage that is visible from the criss cross at the chest. Your lips curve at the corner, knowing you’re already going to be a distraction from his anger.

“Was gonna eat once I finished yellin’ at this employee ‘f mine who can never do his fucking job right,” His voice goes from calm to bitter again, his eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “Gave him a chance t’ prove himself an’ he screws up a deal with one o’ my most important clients an’ now ‘m gonna fucking fire him ‘f he doesn’t–” You interrupt his angry rant by moving forward to straddle either side of his waist on the chair, sitting on top of his lean thighs, your hands grabbing each side of his face while his hands grip your hips. 

“Shh…” You stroke his hair, causing him to involuntarily close his eyes at the feeling, throwing his head back against the chair. “You’re not going to fire anyone. You’re just stressed yeah?” You cup his face again, leaning forward to kiss his slightly parted pink lips. 

Harry hums, opening his eyes to gaze at you. His right hand moves down your hip slowly until he feels the smooth skin of your thigh. You feel him push the fabric of the dress up to slip his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, letting his fingers drag against the side teasingly. 

You try not think too much about it, swallowing the small lump in your throat. You could feel your body become warmer, the area between your legs tingling with sensation. “Harry,” You clear your throat.

“Hm?” He responds, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss the exposed area of your skin through the criss cross ties at the top of your dress.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” You point out, your eyes shutting when you feel his tongue drag against the side of your neck. 

“Told yeh I was angry,” He grunts, “Yellin’ at m’dumb employee.”

You sigh, tilting your head to the side as he kisses your neck, “I brought you food.” You say lamely even though that’s not what you want to think about right now. You notice how easily his mood has changed from angry to horny within seconds. If this was going to be a way for him to calm down, then you might as well get something out of it too. 

“Mhm,” He hums in appreciation, “Thanks, love, but ‘ve got a taste fo’ something else right now.” He whispers, sending chills down your body and between your legs and you can feel the area dampen at his words and touch. 

He drags his hand to the front of your panties, rubbing your clit over your panties and you instantly moan at the action, throwing your head back while gripping his shoulders so you don’t fall. You feel his nose drag up your neck, his mouth pressing hard kisses against the skin. 

“Already so wet fo’ me hm? You’re soaking, princess,” He baits, sliding his fingers to feel the wetness. His fingers slide your panties aside, making you moan out loud when you feel his ring clad fingers drag up your dripping cunt. The tip of his fingers drag up your folds and you gasp, gripping his neck tightly when you feel yourself become unsteady. He teases his forefinger into your entrance, sliding only a little bit of out before sliding back out making you whine. 

He chuckles hotly, bringing his other hand up to grip the back of your head and push you forward to press your lips against his in hunger. You feel your lips move in sync with his as you make out. He parts his lips to bring out his tongue and tease it against your lower lip and you open your mouth to grant access. He immediately shoves his tongue into your mouth, playing with your tongue as he fucks you with both of his ring clad fingers. You moan in his mouth when you feel his fingers go in deep, feeling his knuckles against your spongy walls. 

You bite down on his bottom lip, emitting a low groan from him and you grip his hand from your head to bring it to one of your breasts. He runs his thumb of your nipple back and forth before going in circular motions, making you grip the hair at the back of his head tightly in your fists. 

You feel some of your juices slip down your inner thighs while he thrusts his fingers into you at quick pace, the both of you breathing heavily. He rubs his thumb against your clit, emitting another moan from you which he quiets with a kiss. 

You feel him pull his fingers out of you slowly, your wetness covering his fingers and sliding down his hand. He brings them out from underneath and your skirt and you watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth, liking his fingers to taste your sweetness. You watch him with a clenched jaw, your chest heaving at the sight. You press your lips against his roughly, wanting to taste yourself on his lips as you slide your tongue out of your to lick at his lips. He grips your ass in his hands, picking you up from his thighs and causing you to wrap your legs around his waist while you still kiss his lips. 

You move your lips down from his mouth to the neck, sucking and biting at the skin on his neck. He locks his forearm around your hip, clearing every thing from his desk without a care before placing you down on it. You pull back to look at him with wide eyes but he only gives you a hot smirk before kissing your lips. His hands skim the bottom of your sundress, pulling it upwards to remove it from your body and you put your arms up, allowing him to drag it up your body. He carelessly throws it somewhere in the room.

His eyes darken when he notices you only wearing a pair of white lace panties which he also removes from you by having you lift your hips so he can slide them down your legs. You push his blazer off of him, your hands going for the buttons on his shirt. You press kisses down his chest with each removal of his button and he groans when you lick up his stomach. He fists your hair in his hand, pulling you back up to look at him. 

He gazes you with lust filled eyes, the shade two times darker. “’m gonna fuck you.” He growls deeply. 

You gulp at his tone, feeling your skin sweat at the rising temperature in the room.

“Someone might come,” You whisper against his lips, dragging your hands down his chest, to the waistband of his pants. 

“Tha’ just makes it more exhilarating dunnit?” He responds back, kissing down your neck, sucking marks into your skin. You undo his belt slowly, pulling his slacks down while he drags his tongue up between your breastbone. He helps you pull his pants along with his boxers down his legs until it reaches his ankles. 

You see his erection slap against his abdomen, the pink tip leaking with its pre cum. You drag your tongue across your lower lip at the sight of his cock. Harry’s hands push you back slightly to kiss at your breasts. You feel his tongue swirl on your peaked nipple, biting and sucking before giving it a kiss. You feel him do the same with the other breast and you throw head back, eyes shutting in pleasure at the feeling of his lips on your chest. 

“Baby…” You moan, your mind and vision becoming blurry. 

After giving attention to your breasts, he pulls back with blood red lips, his chest red and heaving for breathe. He looks at your pleased face, smiling cheekily when he notices your eyes on his cock. 

“C’mon, I need to fuck yeh,” He breathes out, setting his hand on your lower back before shoving you against his chest. 

You nod, kissing his lips again. Both of his hands grabbing to feel your thighs as he massages them in his hands. His eyes drag over your naked, sweat covered body that he couldn’t resits or go without touching. 

“So perfect, love,” He coos. His caresses the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers dancing on them and towards your dripping pink core. You moan softly when you feel his two fingers part your folds again, pushing his fingers in afterwards. He parts his lips at the feeling of your wetness. He slowly pulls them out and brings them up to your lips. You stick out your tongue to suck on them, swirling your fingers around the digits and Harry’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down at the sight. 

“Gonna take my cock like a good girl hm?” He asks, situating himself in front of you, pushing you flat on the desk while you whimper desperately at his words. “Are you baby? ‘m askin’ yeh a question.” He growls. 

“Yes–fuck, yes please,” As soon as he got your reassurance, he spreads your thighs apart, making you sit up on his desk before moving forward. He grips his cock in his hand, teasing you with the head. He rubs your clit with the head of his cock and slides it down your slit, causing you to mewl out loud. You finally feel him at your entrance, his shaft finally deep inside of you. Your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head in reaction when he wastes no time picking up his pace and pounding into you mercilessly. You moan breathlessly as your skins made a connection together, his pubes tickling and brushing against your clit with each stroke, the sensation causing you to whine. 

Harry groans, gripping the skin of your thighs and helping himself into you, hitting you with tight and long strokes. You weren’t able to comprehend a thing as your eyes flutter, blinking up at the ceiling. Harry was so stressed and horny that he immediately pulls you up, asking you to stand on your feet. He swiftly turns you around and bends you over his large desk, your chest skimming across the cold surface of his desk.

You giggle softly when he starts kissing at your neck, placings his hands on your back as he slips back inside of you. 

“Doing so well, pet,” He breathes out.

You hear Harry hiss as he smacks your ass, holding onto your soft hips before thrusting hard and fast. You turn your cheek and place it flat against his desk, Harry taking your arms and pinning them behind you, his left hand holding the side of your waist, your back arching as he slows down, fucking you slow and deep so you can feel every inch of him within your body. You were able to feel every ridge of his cock and you must’ve moaned his name many times, seeming like that’s the only thing you could say at the moment.

He leans against your back, his teeth grazing your earlobe with heavy breaths, whispering dirty things in your ear. 

“C’mon baby, push back on m’cock,” He mumbles, feeling you slam back instantly on his bottom half as he thrust forwards. 

“Feels good huh?” He manages to ask. 

You nod vigorously, gasping when he pulls out, feeling empty without him. He runs his hand through the waves of your hair, caressing your head softly. His forearm wraps around your waist as he pulls your body up from the desk to press against his chest. He sits down on the sofa which he carried you to before he sat you on him, pushing his length back into you, his body shuddering as he gave you open mouthed kisses on your arching back. 

“Ride m’cock, princess, tha’s it,” He whimpers in your ear and you moan softly, moving your hips in figures of eights. His chest heaves against your back as he thrusts into you. 

He turns your head to the side, grinning and biting your lip as he runs his hand through his hair, licking his lips as he watches you ride his cock. He watches you like a prey when he sees you pull your body up a little, slowing your pace teasingly. He becomes aggravated, picking up his pace again.

“Stop playing,” Harry grunts, pulling your head back so you could look at each other. His eyes are dark and he was out of breath and panting for her movement in desperation. 

“Fuck me then,” You tease, leaning closer into his face. “Know you can.” And you kiss him roughly, gazing into his eyes and he looked like he wanted to wreck you and you wouldn’t mind at all. His hands hold your waist, almost clawing on it, holding you down further until he was balls deep in you. Your chest was burning at this point, him panting hard and you almost forgot your name for a second. 

“‘m gonna fuck yeh so good,” He promises, bringing his around to palm your breast, fondling with it as his mouth latches onto your neck. “Gonna take it all?” He growls. 

“Mhm, all,” You manage to breathe out. “Please,” You whine. 

He complies with your wish by brutally thrusting up into you hard and fast which made you feel an unexplained amount of pleasure. His whole office was being echoed by the sound of your skins slapping and the wetness of your arousal dripping down both of your thighs. You arch your back, him still holding your hair as he pants against your back, moaning with his rough, raspy voice that you loved so much. You lean your head back to rest again his shoulder as he fucks you into oblivion. 

You felt your body go weak as you were on the verge of your orgasm. Harry grunts behind you, the sounds that you were making setting him off as he repeatedly hits a certain spot into you. Your body was shaking at this point and you could’ve fallen off but but he pulled you close and slowed his pace, rolling his hips up, going deeper. You manage to bring your breathing down and you close your eyes, trying to focus but you felt so dizzy from his hard movements. 

The sound of his phone starts ringing and you open your eyes to see another phone on the coffee table. Harry groans and you widen your eyes when you see him move his arm around you to grab the phone and answer it. 

He continues to thrust up into you, placing his hands back on your hips while he holds the phone between his ear and shoulder, speaking through the phone, “Wha’ is it now?” 

You wanted to protest because it didn’t seem right to fuck while he was speaking through the phone. You were already pissed with the fact that he had the nerve to even answer when you were fucking. But at the same time, he didn’t seem to care, multitasking between fucking his girlfriend and speaking to an employee on the phone. 

“Keep going baby,” He grunts, biting his lip as he watches you. His lips lift up into a smirk when he goes a little faster, the sound of your skin clapping was getting louder. He hisses, leaning forward as he runs his hand down your chest, metal rings touching your clit and making you shudder. He rubs his fingers in circular motions, picking up his pace again as he rams up into you again.You accidentally let out a loud moan but he quickly slams his hand across your mouth, making you laugh a little while he narrows his eyes at you. I mean it was his fault for answering the phone in the first place. 

“No, this isn’t a bad time,” He grunts and you rolls your eyes, “I want to know wha’ you’ve done to fix the problem. Have they agreed to signing the contract?” He manages to ask. You cry out into his hand when he taps your sensitive bud with is full hand, rubbing it as he continues his rhythmic thrusts. “Well ‘f yeh didn’t fix it then why the fuck did you call?” You slow him down, pulling yourself up until the tip of his cock was only inside and then you slam down onto him again, making him groan in surprise. 

He didn’t even care as held you down on him, letting you whine and cry out, muffled by his hand as he snaps his hips up, grunting in your ear. 

“I can’t come there right now ‘cos ‘ve got more things to worry about already an’ yeh couldn’t do one thing fo’ me,” He yells through the phone before asking you, “You gonna come baby?” Seriously, Harry, What the fuck. 

You felt your heart thumping against your chest, legs quivering, feeling the pulse of his cock inside of you, notifying you that he was close to the edge too. You just wanted him to hang up the phone because this wasn’t the right time when you were about to reach orgasm. 

You had enough of his talking, not in the mood for games as you reach behind you to grab the phone from between his ear. “He’ll call back later,” Is the only thing you say before hanging up.

Harry stares at you with disbelief because of what you just did. You pull yourself off of him, immediately feeling empty when you stand up and then sit down on your knees in front of him.“What the fuck, love? Tha’ was an important call.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your eyes, staring at his glorious skin that was inked with art. Your hand cups his chin, making him look at you, his jaw slacking when your free hand grips his shaft and stroked your hand up and down, having a firm grip on it as you stare into his eyes. His raspberry pink lips part when your thumb runs over the tip, eliciting a moan. His green eyes look at you as if he’s helpless and at your mercy, pleading you to go faster. You grin at him, knowing that he just wants to wreck you.

His hand suddenly reaches to grab your throat, your other hand holding his wrist. Harry grins back before smacking your hand away and lifting you on top of him again, wanting to fuck you. His hand grabs the flesh of your ass, spanking it, sending a wave a pleasure up your spine. 

“Wanna be bad huh?” He chuckles, your jaw clenching in annoyance.

He pulls your face closer to his, lips touching but not moving, just gliding across each other. He makes sure to hold you down on him, gliding his forearm around you hip to keep you still, gripping his cock and lifting you a bit until his cock is back inside of you, fucking into you at a fast and hard pace. You get choked up as you moan into each other’s mouths. You close your eyes, moving your hips back to go with his rhythm.

You rock back more, his hand still on your throat, gripping it firmly. You cry out and lean your head down into the crook his neck, feeling overwhelmed with everything. You felt your orgasm approach as your body starts to shake when he took a last, deep thrust into you, you clenching around him as you reach your climax. 

“Fuck, baby,” He drags out breathlessly, pulling out of you and coming hard on your stomach. You ride out your orgasm on his thigh, Harry doing the same, thrusting hips slowly as his cum paints your stomach and core. You see him rest back against his sofa again, head leaning back as his chest heaves, breathing heavily. 

“Tha’ was so good,” He moans, making you giggle against his neck which he laughs at. You kiss his neck slowly and sensually, your hands going to his hair  to intertwine in his messy curls. 

“Feel better?” You grin as you stare at each other for a second, you pecking him on the lips.

“Mhm,” He hums, kissing you back. “But don’t hang up the call next time.” 

Your jaw is agape as you pull back, looking at him in disbelief, “You shouldn’t have answered the call in the first place!”

Harry shrugs, eyes lingering over your body. He brings his hand to your stomach, dragging his hand down your core that was covered with his cum. He lifts it up to your mouth and you part your lips to suck on his fingers. He parts his lips at the sight of you with his fingers in your mouth. 

You swirl your tongue around the tips of his fingers, licking the cum clean of his fingers and swallowing the sweet and slightly bitter taste of him. 

“’m glad you came,” He chuckles, pulling you towards him again to kiss your lips. 

“Glad I came too,” You emphasize, literally and figuratively speaking. 

He chuckles against your lips, wrapping his arms your body tightly while you straddle his waist, arms latched around his neck. 

“Now eat!” You command with a stern look. 

“Think ‘m full,” He teases and you smack his arm, blushing red. 

“Love you, angel,” He mutters against your lips, gazing into your eyes with his that were filled with love and honesty. 

“I love you too, bastard,” You both chuckle, kissing each other one last time before you lift yourself from his body to grab him the food from the table. 

At least he’s not stressed anymore. Well, for now.


filthy af, bye

NHL!Bitty, Part XII -  ‘A Stanley Cup Wedding’

The Schooners win game seven and dethrone the defending champion Falconers to claim Seattle’s first national title. 

Eric was definitely not expecting Jack to propose immediately after losing.

(A rework of the ‘Game 7 PVD vs SEA’ prompt that totally retcons some NHL!Bitty stuff, so timeline-wise: the Falconers took the cup Eric’s second year with the Schooners. The Schooners win the following season.)

NHL!Bitty Masterpost




Game Seven. Third period. Eric’s running on adrenaline, blue Gatorade, and rage.

Jack and the rest of the Falconers first line are racing to catch up, but Eric is ‘criminally fast’ (thank you ESPN for the lovely descriptor), and it’s almost too easy to whip the puck to Carter and wait for the siren.

Snowy can’t stop it. The Schooners will win in regulation. 

For a brief, terrifying moment, Eric sees Morin’s breakaway as the death knell of his relationship. He has flashes of Freshman year and he thinks ‘Jack is going to hate me’.

Eric closes his eyes and waits.

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Dear “grunge” blogs

To make things clear at first, everyone is free to post or reblog anything they want, but there are also some limits to everything you do. Especially when you are taking advantage of somebody’s image to glamorize things that shouldn’t  be glamorized.

To all the

Or the

And the

What you’re doing is not grunge.

First of all, Grunge is a musical genre, a rock music subgenre. It was a musical revolution that happened in the early 90s, led by pure and amazing artists. 

Grunge was never about: Tattoos, peircings, polaroids, pastel, fishnet stockings, blood, nudity, self harm, wanting to die, hating your parents, toilets, flowers, abandoned houses, walls with depressing quotes written on them, cigarettes, aliens and all those strange things you like to post

Second of all, stop using Nirvana/Kurt Cobain as your aesthetic. Just stop it. Why are you glamorizing his depression and his drug use? What do you find amusing in the story of a man who suffered a lot and ended up dying of mental illness? Let him rest in peace! Kurt Cobain had some fucking dignity and he didn’t die to have his pictures posted in some blog just because it looks “cool” and “aesthetic” for some edgy teens, or find Nirvana t-shirts, or even worse, his suicide note, worn by some hipster douchebags. He was a great artist and a wonderful human being and that’s how we should remember him. 

By using Nirvana/Kurt Cobain as your aesthetics, you are:

  • Making Nirvana seem extremely overrated
  • Making Nirvana seem as the only grunge band to ever exist but in reality there are tons of other bands who definately should be recognized like Alice In Chains, Soudgarden, Mother Love Bone, Pearl Jam, Mudhoney, Melvins, Tad and a whole bunch of 90s grunge bands who were great.
  • Making people believe that teens like to “listen” to Nirvana just because it seems cool and not because they are actually a great band.
  • Making people believe that Nirvana songs, or grunge songs in general are only about depression and teen angst
  • Making Kurt Cobain seem as a bad influence since you are only representing him as a self -loathing junkie who loves to whine about his depressing life and just a talentless fashion icon
  • Using Kurt’s image to glamorize drugs and suicide which is disgusting and very disrespectful

So please, stop associating your world with ours. I don’t really care about what you post. If posting the picture of a toilet makes you feel happy and edgy enough, then post the picture of the fucking toilet. But don’t post it under the “grunge” tag, unless you consider the fact that your “grunge icon” Kurt used it, which actually makes sense. Just leave us the REAL grunge fans alone, don’t associate your shit with us, because it’s simply not grunge.

And for anyone who’s reading this, please remember Kurt Cobain for what he truly was. Sure, his addiction and mental illness are a part of him and his image that we can’t deny, but he was also a talented artist, a big music icon and a source of inspiration for several artists. His music may not mean anything for some people, but it saved the lives of other people and changed it for the best. I, as a Nirvana fan, can proudly say that discovering his music was the best thing that happened to me in many ways.  And besides, he was a major supporter for women rights and his quotes are still relevant to this day.

Don’t remember him as the person that “grunge” blogs are presenting, because that person was never the real Kurt Cobain.

Thoughts full

Part 1 || 2

“AHHHH!” A loud shriek pierced the otherwise silent ship, starling the occupants from their state of relaxation. The paladins sprinted towards the source of the sound in a panic, all finding themselves in front of Lance’s door, panting, weapons at the ready.

 Shiro, who arrived first, burst through the door and scanned the room for immediate danger. Seeing the room empty he relaxed and moved further into the room that smelt distinctly of sea. 

 He rushed over to Lance who was slumped over his desk, signs of his previous tasks pushed to the floor, the others close behind. Lance was on the floor, curled up in pain, sweat streamed off him in fountains. 

“Lance? Can you hear me?” Shiro asked firmly, he got no response. He reached his biological hand down and onto Lance’s forehead, hissing as he got burnt. 

“He’s burning.” 

 Hunk ran out in worry, headed for Coran and the healing pods. Shiro quickly picked Lance up but almost dropped him when Lance began thrashing around, weak whimpers making their way through his lips as his face screwed up in pain. 

 The remaining team sprinted out of the room, Shiro careful not to jostle Lance too much as they made their way to the medical bay. Ahead of them they saw Coran quickly setting up one of the pods. 

 "Does he need a suit?“ Pidge asked in a rush and Coran shook his head. 

“We can do that if he needs long term recovery!” Coran said and opened the pod, Shiro handed Lance over to Coran who gently placed him in the pod. It hissed close and immediately began scanning. 

 "What happened to Lance?“ Allura asked after a tense silence, Keith looked up. 

 "We’re not sure,” Keith said and Hunk quickly added on. 

“We just heard his scream and then we found him on the floor,” Hunk said and twisted his fingers together nervously. “Maybe it’s a fit?”

“The pod is almost finished scanning.” Coran said and a loud beep resonated from the machine, the team huddled around as Coran read the symbols popping up on the monitor. Corans twirled his moustache in confusion. “It’s not detecting anything wrong… Just a heightened magnetic energy coming from his brain.”

“What would that mean?” Pidge asked as she tried to read the report. 

“It may be a migraine,” Coran suggested and sighed. “But having him in the pod will not help him any, we’ll have to pull him out.”

“….” The paladins watched in unsure silence as Coran pressed a few buttons and he pod once again opened, Lance slumped out and Coran caught him. He carried him over to a bed and winced when Lance moaned and grasped his head.

“My boy,” Coran whispered and Lance’s eyes slowly- painfully- opened. 

“Coran, my head hurts.” Lance said and winced. “What’s the matter? Why is everyone talking?” 

“No one’s talking.” Shiro whispered and Lance cried out in pain. 

“You’re all talking too much, stop, it hurts.” Lance whined and curled up into himself.

Everyone stayed silent, staring at Lance in worry. 

“Please.” Lance moaned out in pain before his eyes fell shut once more and he slumped into the bed. Everyone looked at each other but before anyone could talk Allura ushered them all except Coran out of the room.

Coran hadn’t the slightest clue what was wrong with the paladin.


Lance awoke, the blank ceiling staring back at him, as if to taunt his existence. He heard whispers, silent murmurs pass through his mind. But he felt nothing but the slight, dull pain in his mind.

He really needed a drink.

So, he got up- wincing at a sudden pain that passed through his mind- and made his way towards the kitchen. The whispers grew louder and Lance tried to block them out- but he couldn’t- they were at the forefront of his mind, demanding attention. He still couldn’t make out what they were, but he had to wonder if he were simply hearing things, if he had gone crazy. Gotten some type of cabin fever in space.

He finally made it to the kitchen but he winced as one of the voices took prevalence over the others, he began to recognise the voice. The worried thoughts, endless with questions, filled with an intelligent undertone. Pidge.

He had no clue why he was hearing Pidge. Maybe he had banged his head, maybe he truely was going crazy. Or maybe Pidge was simply talking loud.

The kitchen was empty when he made it there, he quickly got himself a drink of water before gulping it down and filling the cup once more. Then he made his way out, going in search of the others.

He first found Keith, Keith’s voice got louder and Lance clutched his head in pain. Keith turned and raised his hand to greet Lance but dropped it when Lance ran out of the room.

On his way back to his room he bumped into Pidge. Whispers ran through Lance’s mind like a scream and Lance cried out, unused to the invasion of his mind. Pidge held her arms out for Lance in worry but cried out when he bolted from the scene.

He finally made it to his room, Lance locked the door behind him and slid onto the floor, tears pouring from his blood shot eyes. The whispers in his head calmed down, every now and then a more alert and clear voice would cut through the canopy of murmurs and every time Lance would wince.

He was going crazy. Officially bonkers. Lance pulled at his hair desperately.

‘Where is Lance?’ Lance whipped his head around in search of the posh voice. It was Allura. 

He’s probably in his room.’

There’s no way Lance had heard Allura talking through the door. He was loosing his mind. 

Was this his room?’

Lance shook his head, there was no way he had heard any of that. But surely, a knock sounded and Lance yelped in shock. A variety of sentences came through to Lance’s mind and lance blinked back painful tears. “Lance?” The muffled voice came through the door and Lance wavered.

There were other words being spoken, some he couldn’t catch others he could get a vague meaning of. But none of them spoken aloud, none of them muffled through the metal wall separating them. All of them in Lance’s mind.

Lance opened the door and Allura took in his tearful, dishevelled appearance and blinked in surprise. “Lance, are you feeling fine?” ‘He looks bad, maybe I should cut them all some slack’

“Yeah. It’s just a head ache but the others might appreciate a break too.” Lance answered absent-mindedly.

“Pardon?”‘Did I miss a part of the conversation?’ Now Lance was confused.

“No…. You didn’t miss any of the conversation?” Lance said questioningly and Allura gasped. 

“Did you hear that?” Allura asked and Lance frowned. ‘Can you hear this?’

“Yeah” Lance asked looked at Allura weirdly. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I didn’t say that aloud.” Allura answered and frowned. ‘Watch my lips.’

Her lips didn’t move, not even an inch. Yet he could still hear her. 

“…..” Lance stared at her in horror as more thoughts flooded his mind, thoughts of her home planet, thoughts of her life before. But mainly her hatred for those who destroyed her planet. Hatred for Zarkon.

All thoughts she couldn’t stop, they were a constant stream. Never ending.

“Lance, please don’t freak out, it’ll make this all worse.” Allura tried to calm as she noticed the hazy look in Lance’s eyes. Sweat formed between Lance’s brows and he looked faint. 

“I-I can read- your mind?” Lance questioned and Allura looked as lost. 

“Possibly” Allura said and looked down. ‘I’ll have to see if Coran knows about this.’

Allura left. Lance concentrated on the whispers passing through his mind. They were his teammates.

Hunk’s anxious stream of though. Keith’s brash word. Pidge’s blunt though process and Shiro’s tortured whispers.

All within Lance’s brain, waiting to be deciphered. Lance rubbed his temple, trying to rid the headache.

Lance could read minds.


Lance cautiously made his way down the hallway of the ship, headed to the medical bay. Everyone was already there, waiting for Lance. Lance knew that of course.

He walked through the door and cringed at the flood of voices. Thoughts mixed with real conversation, leaving Lance in a muddled haze.

He could hear many things directed his way, thoughts and actual words as the team crowded around him. 

“My boy,” Coran’s calm voice pierced through the confusion and Lance focused on him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to my voice only.”

The other paladins had stopped talking and Coran walked closer. “Do you feel the separation?”

Lance nodded, feeling the voices recede. There was a distinct wall between his own consciousness and their thoughts.

Coran took Lance’s face into his hands. “Now, focus on pushing the voices away, thickening that wall.”

Lance did as told, pushing his friends worries and thoughts and secrets away. Wincing when a particular thought would yell out. Finally, the thoughts receded and all they were was a small whisper in the back of his mind.

Lance released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and grabbed Coran’s arms for support. “Breathe my boy,” Coran whispered and Lance felt like crying.

The headache was gone. 

“There will always be a wall beween your thoughts and ours,” Coran stated and patted Lance’s back. “Just remember that and use it to control it.”

“How did you know that?” Lance asked after a long pause and Coran smiled sadly.

“I should have realised sooner,” Coran looked down in thought. “It’s a trait the former blue paladin gained, after all.”

Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t)

So, I’m obsessed with the whole idea that Peter is Tony’s unofficial son and it’s only supported by Tony’s appearance in Spider-Man Homecoming, so I came up with this series, which is in the works and also posted on my AO3 account. If you like it or have any suggestions as to where I should take this, please don’t hesitate to let me know! Also, forgive any spelling errors or mistakes, I finished this at three in the morning one night and I was too lazy to go back and fix them. Enjoy!

~~~~~~

Tony swore when he was twelve years old that he would never be a father. He remembered that moment clearly, like it had just happened a day ago, not well over thirty years ago. He was in his room, his father still screaming in a drunken rage at his mother over something Tony did, his anger and disappointment following Tony down the hallway of their New York penthouse apartment. He remembered sitting on the cold tile floor of his room, head rest against the heavy wooden door that was doing nothing to muffle his father’s harsh words.

His father was angry, Tony had gotten kicked out of his third private school on the East Coast, the letter expulsion still clutched in his father’s harsh grasp. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen his father this furious before and Tony knew that the only thing that saved him from taking a glass full of scotch to the face was his mother’s presence in the room. Maria Stark might’ve been docile about a lot of things, but Howard taking his rage out on Tony physically, that would never fly in this house hold.

Tears of anger and embarrassment welled in Tony’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to waste anymore energy on that man that he was forced to acknowledge as his father. No matter what Tony did, it was never enough to please Howard Stark. He made his first prototype of an arch reactor at the age of six, Howard wanted it by age five. Tony skipped three grades, Howard wanted him to skip four. Tony, despite his age, was offered a spot at MIT and if Howard had it his way? He would’ve been there a year ago. No matter how much Tony achieved, how many goals he surpassed, he always came up short in Howard’s eyes. Being the constant source of Howard’s disappointment and ire made Tony wonder if he would ever succeed in his father’s eyes, if his dad would ever clap him on the back and say “I’m proud of you, son.”

He wondered, some nights, when he’d lie awake in his too big bed in his too big room in his too big house, if his father had ever wanted children, had wanted Tony.

The thought crossed his mid countless of times, until it latched onto his cerebral cortex and sat there, like the worst form of cancer that had no possible cure.

And while Tony sat there, head resting tiredly against the warm wood, Howard’s voice still echoing down the long hallway, that cancer spread until it proved fatal.

He never wanted his children to feel like this.

Unwanted

Worthless

A complete and utter failure.

Tony was self-aware enough to know that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, that human nature was a pattern and patterns were destined to repeat themselves, without fail. Anger and rage and disappointment were the only form of affection Tony was used to getting to his father. His father was a cold man, always keeping Tony at a distance that no matter how hard he tried, Tony could never quite breach.

And Tony knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would always end up like his father.

~~~~~~~

Peter Parker came into his life unexpectedly and despite popular opinion, unplanned. He’d been keep tabs on the Spider-Kid since the kid popped up on his radar a few months ago, clad in that god awful homemade leotard/hoodie contraption and flying around Queens on his webs with all the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. Tony never planned to actually meet the kid behind the mask or reaching out to the flying kid in his homemade costume, but when the Avengers disbanded and the only family Tony had ever known was decreasing in numbers, he needed back up.

Looking back, his intentions were purely selfish and it shamed him to admit, when he dropped the kid back off in his sketchy neighborhood in Queens with the new suit he’d made him, he never had any intention of keeping in contact with the kid.

To absolve himself from the guilt, he appointed Happy as his chaperone and threw himself into creating new legs for Rhodey, another way to attempting to soothe ache of guilt that had settled along with the shrapnel, in his battered heart.

He underestimated Peter, who was pushy and persistent and finally, after three months, Happy threw his phone at Tony and told him to call the kid. That night, Tony, with a glass of scotch in hand, filtered through the hundreds of voicemails Peter had left Happy—anecdotes of his daily patrols, everything from helping old ladies cross the street, stopping bike thieves to getting cats out of trees. Each story was told with excruciating detail, in that excited ramble the kid got whenever he was particularly enthused about something and warmth settled around Tony’s heart, fond amusement making his lips curl into his first genuine smile in months.

It took Tony another week to reach out to the kid, but he did and that’s how he found himself, in one of his more flashier cars, sitting outside of Peter’s school. He ignored the gawking, the stunned stares and the whispers of the students filtering out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed on a familiar head of messy hair.

Peter was talking excitedly to the chubby, dark haired Asian kid by his side, who was nodding along to everything Peter said with a look of pure wonder on his face and Tony wondered briefly if his little friend knew that his BFF moonlighted as a super-hero in spandex at night.

Another kid appeared by Peter’s side and Tony watched as Peter visibly tensed and tried to skirt around the kid, but the kid threw a hand out and stopped Peter in his tracks.

The cocky grin that appeared on the kid’s face was all too familiar to Tony and before he could even second guess himself, he was out of his car and walking towards the three boys, ignoring the murmurs coming from the crowd.

“—when are you gonna stop lying about your internship with Tony Stark, Penis Parker? There’s no way someone like Tony Stark would ever take on a charity case like you—“

Peter looked up when he heard the murmuring crowd fall to a hush and his gaze landed on Tony. The amount of surprise in the kid’s features made Tony’s gut clench that in no way had to do with the greasy cheeseburger he ate on the way over here.

“M-Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammered, flicking his gaze back to would be bully in front of him.

“Yeah, Parker, like I’m gonna fall for that—

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Tony interrupted, smirking in satisfaction when the kid that was giving Peter a hard time, froze, turning his disbelieving eyes on to Tony.

“Y-You-You’re Tony Stark.” He said faintly, his voice shaking.

Tony smirked, “Astute observation and you are?”

The kid gulped, his adams apple bobbing harshly, “F-Flash Thompson.”

“Makes sense,” Tony said with a nod of his head, looking the kid up and down, “I’d bully someone too, if my parents named me after the lamest superhero to ever grace the pages of a comic book, overcompensation and all that,” Tony said thoughtfully, “especially with your perceived fixation on the male genitalia. Tell me, did it take you a while to come up with something that juvenile or did you have someone equally as childish think it up for you? Because I would think someone with—and I’m assuming here, so correct me if my deductive reasoning skills are off—a high level of intelligence would come up with something a little bit more creative than ‘Penis Parker’.”

By the time Tony was done, the crowd around him was snickering and the kid in front of him looked like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, if such things were possible.

Tony smiled, but there was nothing nice about, “Now, if I ever catch wind of you so much as looking in Peter’s direction again and trust me, kid, I’ve got my ways, I have no issue siccing my AI on all your school records and wreaking havoc on your future plans for any Ivy League schools, you reading me kid?”

Flash nodded so vigorously he resembled a bobble head, “Y-Yes, Sir.”

Tony smiled, this one much more kind than the last, “Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding, now running along so I can talk to my intern here without your sorry excuse for cologne clouding my senses, seriously kid less is more.”

Flash tucked his proverbial tail between his legs and pushed through the crowd of people that were now openly laughing, losing interest in Tony in favor of chasing after Flash to mock him.

Tony shouldn’t feel as proud as he did, but he knew what it was like to be bullied and he’d be damned if his kid—ahem, someone like Peter had to deal with someone as childish as Flash Thompson every day and it was within his power to do something about it. Like kid didn’t already have enough to deal with as it was.

He turned back to see a dumbfounded Peter and his equally as flabbergasted friend.

“That was—” Peter began, but seemed to be at a loss for words, shaking his head in disbelief.

His friend, however, didn’t seem to have that particular problem.

“—AWESOME!” His friend said excitedly, “oh man did you see Flash’s face? Dude, this is greatest thing to ever happen to me. Tony Stark just verbally assaulted Flash, Jesus dude, how is this your life? If you ever want to trade, even if it’s just for a day, I’m totally down—“

Ned.” Peter muttered, elbowing him roughly, giving a rough jerk of his head in Tony’s direction. He flicked his apologetic gaze over to Tony, who simply rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Ned followed his gaze and flushed, “Right, sorry.”

Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tony could see the kid physically trying to fight off his embarrassment and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sound and the surprise and confusion from earlier was back, “Mr. Stark, what are you doing here? At my school? Is everything okay? Is there a—“ Peter glanced around in a sad attempt at nonchalance and lowered his voice to an equally as sad attempt at a whisper, “—mission?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was making Tony wonder if the kid had a weird twitch he’d never noticed before.

Tony glanced over at Ned quickly, going back to his original curiosity of how much the kid actually knew about his arachnid friend here, but Ned seemed to catch on to Tony’s unasked question.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, sir, I’m Peter’s Guy In The Chair.” Ned answered helpfully, giving him a bright smile.

Tony glanced back over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, who simply muttered “dude” in an exasperated tone, shaking his head before returning his attention to Tony, “Ned knows.”

“Oh, well, in that case, no, there is no…mission,” Tony said in a mock whisper, making Peter flush, “I’m working on a new Iron Man suit and I need to pick your brain for some ideas on upgrades, figured I’d swing by and pick you up from school today.”

Peter’s eyes widened and Ned seemed torn between fainting or peeing himself from excitement.

“You get to touch the Iron Man suit?!” He squeaked, turning his wide-eyed gaze over to Peter, who only gave Ned a look, who bit his lip sheepishly, but looked like he was ready to explode from the level of his enthusiasm.

Peter ignored him, “I was supposed to help Ned finish the lego Death Star today, we were supposed to do it yesterday, but I uh, kinda got caught up on patrol.” Peter gave Tony a guilty shrug of his shoulders.

“So let me get this straight,” Tony said slowly, “you’re turning down quality time in my personal lab to build a lego Death Star with Ned over here?”

Peter’s eyes had lit up at the mentions of Tony’s lab, but with quick glance at a wide eyed Ned, who seemed to be stuck on the fact that Tony Stark said his name, his excitement dimmed. But Peter was loyal, almost to a fault, and nodded resolutely.

Tony, seemingly at a loss for words, just stood there, shellshocked at being told no, by a fifteen year old kid at that. A small part of Tony, the one that was actually looking forward to hanging out with the kid, was slightly hurt at the rejection.

Ned, who’d been watching the entire scene with wide eyes, was more observant than he looked and seemed to sense Peter’s indecision and Tony’s disappointment, because he gave his friend a bright smile, “Dude, we can finish the Death Star anytime and besides, my mom wanted me home tonight to help her with something, so I’m booked, raincheck?” He offered.

Peter glanced at Ned then at Tony and then back to Ned, “Um, sure Ned, no problem.”

Ned gave him a smile and then turning his attention back to Tony, his friendly smiled turned a bit more to the manic grin that most people wore in Tony’s presence, “It was really nice to meet you Mr. Stark.”

He offered Peter a fist bump, who returned it, before he started walking down the side walk, towards, what Tony assumed, was home.

Turning his attention back to the kid, he gave him a smile, “Good good, now we should probably be on our way if we want to avoid traffic. Now, as far as suit upgrades go, I was thinking of up-ing the suit’s repulsers a bit—hey, kid, you coming?” Tony asked from his position on the driver’s side, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was still standing on the side walk. Tony followed his gaze and saw Ned still making his way down the sidewalk and chancing a glance back at Peter, who was still watching him with big, guilty eyes, he sighed.

The things I do for you, kid, Tony thought to himself.

“Hey, Ned,” Tony shouted, making the kid pause and turn around, looking to Peter, who was watching Tony with the beginnings of a smile, then back to Tony curiously, “would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the lab for three people.”

Even from a few yards away, Tony could see the kid’s eyes widen in surprise before he hustled his way back to an equally excited Peter, who shot him a grateful look.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, giving him a bright smile.

And Tony couldn’t help but smile back, “You’re welcome, kiddo,” eyeing a panting Ned warily, “make sure he doesn’t do anything…weird, okay? I don’t mind opening my lab to him but there was something in his eyes when I was talking about the Iron Man suit that made me decidedly uncomfortable.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, Ned’s cool.”

Ned, who had come to a slightly sweaty stop in from them, looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I try on the Iron Man helmet?”

“Dude.”

~~~~~~~~~

Tony spent the majority of their time in lab just watching Peter and Ned run around like kids in a candy store—picking things up, playing with the robots—DUM-E taking a special liking to Peter, who, Tony was pleased to see, treated him like a human, thanking him when he brought them water from the stocked fridge and smiling when DUM-E beeped happily in return—and played with all the gadgets laying around.

Tony, albeit wearily, let them try on one of the Iron Man helmets from one of his earlier models and explained to them how the suit worked, both of them hanging on to his every word. He showed them the blue prints for his newest model, listening to their suggestions and even writing a few them down to look into later.

Ned, Tony found out, was rather intelligent with computers. He gave him one of his old security systems and watched with genuine interest as the kid hacked into the the files with ease and recoded the entire system in a matter of minutes.

When Tony looked it over, he let out a grunt of an approval, “Nice work, kid.”

Ned all but fainted at Tony’s praise.

The hours slipped by and F.R.I.D.A.Y. being the helpful AI that she is, had ordered pizzas without Tony even having to ask and had them sent to the kitchen, alerting them when they had arrived. Tony led them up to the kitchen, watching with thinly veiled amusement as they both took in every new surrounding with the same amount of interest they had shown in the lab.

Tony continued to observe them as they tore into the pizza like they hadn’t eaten in days and taking a quick glance at the clock, he realized with a flash of guilt, that they had been down in the lab for over four hours and the last time they had probably eaten something would’ve been well over seven or eight hours ago.

It was nice, Tony deiced, listening to their mindless chatter and what was especially nice, was seeing how at ease Peter was with his friend, looking like a true fifteen year old with his friend over to his house on a school night, like he didn’t have super powers, like he didn’t dress up in tight spandex and web his way through Queens and fight crime at night while trying to balance a normal life.

The thought nagged at Tony for the rest of dinner and as he rode silently with them in the backseat while Happy drove them all to Ned’s apartment first, who still looked like he couldn’t believe today was real, thanking Tony breathlessly for the best day of his life and telling Peter he’d see him tomorrow at school.

Peter watched his friend with a small, amused smile and when they got to Peter’s apartment building, Tony glanced over at the kid, the smile still had yet to leave his face.

“Alright kid, this is your stop,” Tony said, making a move to undo his seatbelt, but the kid’s hesitant voice made him pause.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, clearing his throat, “I uh, just wanted to thank you, you know for well, everything,” the kid breathed, smiling up at him so sincerely that it made Tony’s chest ache in the best sort of way, “today was amazing and I really appreciate you inviting Ned along with us, he really looks up to you, you know? And I haven’t really been able to spend much time with him since, y’know, the whole Spider-Man thing.”

The kid paused before continuing on in a softer voice, “And about Flash, I really, really don’t know how to thank you for that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “it’s kind of funny, in a way, I’m a sort of super-hero and I can’t even stand up to a bully—“

Tony’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the kid’s self-deprecation, “Look, kid, I’m no stranger to bullies,” he began, sighing heavily, “I had my fair share of them when I was in school and even in college. I learned that while you may no be able to physically fight someone, you can always fight them with words and sometimes, words can hurt more than your fists. All I did was give that Flash kid a taste of his own medicine and hopefully, got him off your case.”

Peter was silent for a moment, considering Tony’s words before giving him another appreciative smile, “I don’t think Flash will be messing with me anytime soon, but still, thank you,” Peter’s smile turned shy, “you’re the first adult, other than May, to stand up for me and I really appreciate it, so thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” Tony offered after a beat of silence, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

Whatever he was trying to say, the kid got, because he smiled brightly and Tony, suddenly feeling awkward at the unusual sentimental moment, busied himself with unbuckling his seatbelt, ignoring the warmth in his chest.

He reached around the kid to open the door for him and Peter, rather than getting out, just like last time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Tony, thinking he was hugging him

“This um, wasn’t a hug,” Tony began awkwardly, “I’m just getting the door for you.”

However, before the kid could pull away, Tony wrapped his arms around him and gave him a quick, but firm squeeze.

Peter gave him another smile before wishing Tony and Happy a goodnight,  getting out of the car and making his way up towards his apartment. Tony debated on his next move, mulling it over quickly and before the kid could get too far, he found himself making a snap decision and rolling down he window.

“Hey, Underoos,” Tony started, slightly unsure when the kid turned around and looked at Tony with hopeful eyes.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” He said after a moment of silence, the kid’s answering grin melting away any self doubt before it could begin.

“Sure Mr.Stark—Tony,” Peter stuttered excitedly, “sounds great!”

Tony watched the kid go with a satisfied smiled, so caught up in his happy little pseudo-family moment that he almost didn’t hear his phone ring.

Not even bothering to glance at the caller I.D., he answered it with a smooth, “Stark.”

“Tony?! What the hell we’re you thinking going to a school and threatening a minor, A MINOR—“

Shit.

~~~~~

Should I continue? Please let me know :)

breaking the cycle: gotg2 and the theme of toxic masculinity

It’s taken me, oh, about a month to organize my thoughts on this and they’re still a mess, but I have all these snippets in my head about how GOTG2 deconstructs toxic masculinity, and hey! you’re gonna get them now

Toxic masculinity is basically the concept that socializing men and boys to be a certain ‘masculine’ way, and criticizing them or ridiculing them when they fail to live up to these (often impossible or even abusive) standards, is ultimately harmful to everyone, men and women alike. Ever wonder why you flinch at dudes yelling “man up!” to their crying young sons instead of comforting them? Yeah, that’s why.

Anyway, regarding GOTG: a lot of this stuff revolves around Yondu and the Yondu-Peter relationship, but also (I totally love this) a large portion of it also revolves around a white, straight, able-bodied man who is quite literally called ‘Ego’. spoilers follow, naturally-

Keep reading

Highlights from Talks Machina (Episode 105)

Again, covering for @eponymous-rose​ while she continues her international vacation! Sorry for missing last week–things got crazy! Tonight’s guests: Darin de Paul, Taliesin sporting a lovely scarlet mohawk, and Travis. Brian starts a story that ends with him forging several signatures, and off we go.

  • The new campaign guide comes out soon! Taliesin is now worried about messing up the history of a character he invented.
  • Darin loves D&D as a long-form improv exercise and is happy he was able to get moments with each of the cast members.
  • Right after college, Darin was an apprentice at the Burt Reynolds Theater in Florida (a year-long program for theater students). One of his co-apprentices was Matt’s mom, and Matt’s grandmother was the director’s assistant. Matt’s father was part of the writing room. During the run of Darin’s last show (Fiddler), a clarinet player said they were going to play D&D and invited Darin. Matt’s mother was also in the group; they were all new to the game, so they rolled on a table for names and played four sessions. Last year, Darin was hired by Blizzard to do various voices, which is where he and Matt became friends. Later, Matt realized his mom had a picture of herself with Darin de Paul, and discussion of that picture led to the conversation of their D&D game. It’s been 37 years since Sprigg’s original campaign.
  • Matt was worried about fitting Sprigg in until Darin mentioned he was a hermit. The hobgoblin TPK was canon! Sprigg, a chaotic evil illusionist thief, was the only one to survive; the last moment of that campaign had him fleeing on a cart with wolves chasing him, abandoning the rest of the party to their deaths. Travis and Taliesin ask if he really was chaotic evil; “Why do you think he was so interested in redemption, dear boy?”
  • The first episode Darin saw was the Trials of the Take episode when the carpet was destroyed. He’s wanted to be on the show ever since.
  • Symmetra’s voice actor, Anjali Bhimani, also plays D&D. My heart skips a few beats.
  • Vex and Percy eloped over the year break. Laura and Taliesin kept it secret out of pique at first (Taliesin doesn’t remember why they were piqued). He’s not surprised the others are annoyed.
  • Grog was extremely impressed by Sarenrae and hasn’t thought much about Kord giving him any boons.
  • Darin has been a fan of the show and watching for some time. Taliesin says he is the most prepared guest they’ve ever had.
  • Very few people were present at Vex & Percy’s wedding. They did not intend to ever bring it up on their own.
  • The plane of books is the worst possible plane for Grog. Only the plane of shopping would be worse.
  • As soon as Darin walked into the studio last Thursday, Travis immediately asked him if he was a god. Travis still thinks he might be.
  • Percy would rather have a thousand years with Vex than a thousand years with Ioun’s library.
  • Travis wants a “positive, upbeat resolution to all the drama that is a-hanging in the air.” Me too. Travis does not read the Player’s Handbook to help keep Grog dumb, so he never knows what’s going on.
  • Travis loves how prepared Darin was. He offered the Deck because he thought Darin was looking for something specific after Sprigg deflected the weaker offerings.
  • Darin loved the emotion in the room during the plane shift and the strong moment with Marisha in particular. He also likes the movie Gargoyles.
  • The hardest thing about playing Sprigg after so long was finding him again. Brian gets very sentimental about the long journey that brought Sprigg back to life, including Darin becoming friends and colleagues with Matt so many years later.
  • Darin will be back on the next episode and is visibly excited about it.
  • Darin used to read tons of D&D books (mentions Drizzt by name) and used to paint minis as a hobby. He still has some of the figures and wants to donate them to the show.
  • Darin’s wife was part of Taliesin’s parents’ circle, so he’s known her for a long time. Taliesin and Darin exchange memories of meeting Roddy McDowall, and Darin says part of Sprigg’s concept of memories being the most important came from a conversation he had with Roddy while Roddy was dying of cancer.
  • Percy’s current distrusting attitude towards the gods came directly from his interaction with the Raven Queen. However, he didn’t know there was a god of knowledge and has been “chewing on it a lot, and what it means to have faith in knowledge.” He sees the library as a testament to faith in humanity and the good works of life and how important memory is and is blown away by it. “Books have always been about finding meaning and this whole library thing has changed him.” Taliesin expected Percy to be much more resistant to Ioun and was surprised at how quickly the books sold him.
  • Darin felt as the scenes progressed that his role was to “illuminate” CR as to where they were and what they could be. Taliesin and Percy both wondered if he was Scanlan from the future. Darin had the choice of being Scanlan’s dad, but declined.
  • Percy picked Vesper because her namesake was the last person he’d talked to in real life.
  • The only place Travis can think of worse for Grog is if the books were replaced with clothing & a For Sale sign. “Grog has a beatnik poet inside him waiting to get out.”
  • Darin’s advice to Keyleth was total improv. He almost cried when she touched his hand. He loves funny characters that can become sad and/or touching.
  • Marisha has no idea how to get Keyleth out of her emotional nosedive. Watching Marisha break character from Keyleth at the end of an episode is one of Taliesin’s favorite things because they’re such different people.
  • Percy would seek out the lifebooks for all his family & ancestry because he’s fascinated with legacy, and Whitestone is full of ghost stories. He had lots of stories he’d planned to give as part of the gnomes’ tour, and tells one about a woman forced into a marriage who slowly poisoned her husband over a number of years.
  • Sprigg feels he is what Scanlan might become. He did not expect to survive the episode.
  • If they were really in Ioun’s halls, Travis would love to see the books of his family and of JFK. Darin would like to see his father’s book. Darin also likes wearing suits, which is why he wears suits. He only wears t-shirts at the gym. (At one point Darin’s family also owned 20 horses???). He wishes his parents could see him now because they were so supportive when he was growing up.

Honor! Justice! After Dark, After Dark, After Dark!

  • If the challenge for Ioun involves any physical activity, Grog will fight Percy for it.
  • Bucket lists: Travis wants to swim with a great white shark. (Darin’s biggest fear is great white sharks.) Taliesin wants to travel to India. Darin wants to learn to tap dance, and casually drops that he used to dance with Cirque du Soleil.
  • Darin’s favorite color is black. His favorite season is winter.
  • There’s a video somewhere of Darin de Paul and Steve Blum pretending to be zombies and running towards the camera.
  • Travis and Darin do Reinhardt “impressions” by talking in high-pitched baby voices. Taliesin does a pretty decent actual impression! Darin likes that there’s heroes for every playstyle.
  • Darin hasn’t told Matt’s parents he brought back Sprigg. He also used to have a crush on Matt’s mom.
  • If Darin could pick any character from VM to play, he would play Scanlan. Brian teases the entire world by saying he would play “the character Pike’s in love with.”
  • Darin’s twitter flooded after last Thursday and he wishes he could respond to all of the kind messages.
  • Darin once shared floss with Gilbert Gottfried as part of an old bit.
  • Darin feels his whole history has led to this moment last Thursday where he had the chance to create a story with people he loved.
  • Laura read the Game of Thrones books as they came out, well before the show started. Brian just found the copy of the first book she lent him in 2010, which he still hasn’t read.
  • If Sprigg could fight any D&D monster, it would be a hobgoblin.

sock-monkey-homunculus  asked:

Hi. I want to write an epic space opera, so I was wondering what are some classic points my stoey needs and what has been done to death? Also, fun fact, Charlton Heston's character in Planet of the Apes is from my town. Unfortunately, his school was made up.

Rod Serling once gave the best advice to writing: take however many books you’re reading right now, and double that.

This is probably not the answer you want to hear, but it’s a mistake to think in terms of tropes. A lot of people go into writing with their heads: they want to subvert expectations in a clever way. They write because they want to get a pat on the head for being smart (”in this novel, it turns out the Love Interest is actually the Dragon with a hint of Lightning Bruiser!”). Overused tropes and clichés aren’t the problem, though. When people say they didn’t like a story because it was cliché or overdone, what they mean is, they didn’t believe it.

If you want to tell a military scifi story, do that. It’s like a piece of advice an acting coach once gave me: no matter how many actors there are, there’s always room for one more good one.

If you want to tell a story about space pirates (to pick a particularly common scifi theme), tell a story about space pirates, but “don’t try to impress me, try to convince me.” This means identifying exactly what it is you want to say and convincing me of it. A lot of people bristle at this because for some strange reason, we have the first culture in human history that is suspicious of clear communication, and for some reason, loves ambiguity.

So, if you want to tell a story about space pirates, you have to identify what it is you want to say. Suppose you have the idea that all criminal organizations are is just “outsider capitalism.” It’s family and protection for people who have none of the above, and that the difference between pirates and a big business is simply that one is run by people on the outside who “weren’t invited to the party.”

So, if that’s what you want to say, a story about space pirates starts to take shape. Your main character comes to life, as he is the person the audience sees the story through and we like who he likes, trusts who he trusts. You start the story inside a big interstellar corporation, but our hero sees they practice all kinds of underhanded traits he later sees in the pirates, except the “big guys” get away with it. Since a good rule is that the main character is the person in the story who gets into the most trouble, you have him as a stiff executive who gets kicked out of a corporation, who then is forced to join the pirates because like everyone else there, he has nowhere else to go. Your main character is in some way an unfinished, imperfect person; the point of the story is to have him improve or learn something. 

At first, because he has the expectations the audience does, our hero believes they’re all cut-throats, but we see a different side to them: we see them not as evil, but people who are somehow unacceptable to society in some way. All the pirate characters are created to drive that idea home. One was pushed off his home by a corporation; one is a member of a religious group that isn’t liked; one is a cyborg, which are discriminated against; one is a runaway clone of an executive about to be chopped up for parts. None of them have families, since the point of the story is to show how organizations like this can be surrogate families. The story starts to write itself: our hero tries to protect his surrogate family (as our hero cares, we care, too), and we see the pirates get punished for things the “big guys” get away with. 

The finale writes itself: the pirates fight the big corporation and our hero chooses to side with the pirates even after a final temptation. Endings should feel easier to write than beginnings; a story is like a funnel, at the beginning, anything can happen, but as it goes on, the range of possibilities narrow until one final outcome is possible. 

See? Right there, we have a story that subverts expectations and does something interesting with an overused trope (space pirates), but subverting expectations is a means, not an end in and of itself. It’s all about expressing clearly what you have to say.